Wenn rubs his hands and grabs a carrot from the pantry, crunching loudly. “Listen to your pa, Amy.”
I pour another cup of brandy and chew on a chunk of stale yeast bread. We sit in silence waiting for the arrival of dear Theo and his wild ideas. Wenn fiddles with an old clock that’s been passed down through his family. It still works, although Wenn has to scavenge parts every once in a while from the cities. A knock on the door, a creak of the hinges, and Theo lightens the room. “Hello family. Miss me?” Theo’s staring at me while saying this.
Wenn throws an apple at Theo, which Theo expertly snatches. Wenn laughs. “Welcome Theo. Seems like ages since we last saw you. Amy just told us that you’ve told her of the plan that you and Bets cooked up. She’s not too keen on it, I’m afraid.”
Theo purrs. “Wenn, as I said to your missus this evening, this is a safe opportunity. Miss Bets has scoped out the area and knows what to do. Amy, you know that we’re careful and that this’d be a great way to entice the merchants to make things more comfortable around here. Before long, I suspect you and Wenn here are going to start a family. You need to be thinking long term for them.”
I slump in my chair. The clock ticks loudly and father rummages through a cabinet of kitchen tools. I suppose now is as good a time to make the announcement as any. “Wenn, father. I have some important news. I think I’m going to have a baby. It’s only been a month or so, but the midwife thinks I’m moving along”.
Father stops fussing. Wenn instantly traverses the room and squeezes me tight. “Oh goodness. This be the most wonderful moment of my life. Amy sweetie, you’ve not been holding this back on me?”
“Of course not Wenn. I haven’t been feeling myself lately and visited the midwife early this morning.” I’m lying. I’ve known for more than a week and hadn’t the energy for this moment. “Theo, I think it’s appropriate that you be the godfather of this child. You’re closer than family to us.”
Theo sits with his hands between his legs and looks at Wenn and me. “I’d be honored. You mean more to me than you could ever know.” He couldn’t smile wider.
Wenn is silent and touches my belly. “Now it’s more than clear that we go and gather the goods for this family.” He sports the same goofy look that he wore when we were first engaged.
Anger wells up within me, my face growing flush. “Wenn, this is exactly why you and Theo are not to leave on some stupid excursion into a dangerous place. That goes for you as well father. I’m not raising this child on my own. I know it’s been hard enough for father raising me. I need you men.” Of course, I do wonder about this point at times. When mother left, I found myself having to fare on my own. It seems they rely more on me than I do on them.
Wenn sighs. “Amy, enough of this talk for tonight. Let’s sleep on it and worry about these things later. We should just enjoy the good news. Do you think we’ve got the next garden tender in there? Or a strong smith like your dad and me?” He produces a bottle of a strong ale and pours us all a cup.
The next morning is like any other, with me slogging out to the gardens and father and Wenn gathering wood and coal for the ovens. Apparently, Theo passed the news through town during the night because everyone I encounter shouts congratulations. One of my students helps me carry my pack to the clearing. I might like this doting after all. I spend most of the day pruning berries. If you don’t keep them in check, they’ll spread like a terrible rash throughout the other plots. I wonder how such delicious fruits can emerge from something so invasive, greedy, and thorny. I’ve seen the green people less often during the last month. Today, they appear during my short lunch. They seem sad. I ask them in my mind what is wrong. An image of unripened fruit, picked too early, appears before me.
“Don’t worry little friends. I know when to harvest these berries.” I consider them for a long time, wondering whether there’s more to their concern than I can divine with simple mind reading.
They fidget. Two of them climb into the branches of an old sycamore. And then they fade away.
I’m walking home as evening approaches. I suppose the growing baby’s hungry, so I pick up a nice cut of meat from the butcher. The butcher shop is so counter to all that I know. The gardens celebrate and encourage life, while the meat shop is filled with the blessings of death. When I was younger I went into the basement of the shop to look for the butcher. It was cool, dark, and damp. When my eyes adjusted, I saw all sorts of animals hanging on hooks and blood everywhere. I was grateful that my life was spent in the wide open spaces of my mother’s gardens rather than in that cramped, smelly place. Shaking that memory away, I tuck the package of meat under my arm and head down the road. Wenn and father had better be there with a warm fire in the hearth. My shoulders sag when I discover the house lifeless again. “Hell”, I mutter, opening the front door.
I drop my package and satchel, shocked at the scene before me. The floor’s covered with the muddy footprints of at least three different people. I recognize Wenn’s boot marks, but not the other two. The kitchen is cluttered with shiny implements emancipated from their storage bins. All the stored food is gone. Spices are spilled on the floor. I shuffle into our sleeping rooms to find most of Wenn’s and father’s clothing gone. A few stray socks and shirts are strewn on the beds and chairs. Wenn’s favorite shirt, the one I gave him for his birthday, hangs forlornly on its hook.
My immediate, visceral conclusion is that Wenn, father, and Theo have left with Bets to plunder the ruins of the southern city. Surely they’d have told me before leaving, even if my response would be unpleasant. I frantically search the cold house for a note or some explanation. Nothing.
I run to Theo’s house. Orange light twinkles in the window panes. I slam the door open, expecting to see Theo’s mother looking worried like me, wondering where her son has gone. Rather, Theo is sitting in his tattered chair, feet propped and smoking a small clay pipe. “Amy, what a pleasant surprise.” Concern washes over him when he sees my face. “What’s the matter? It’s not the baby is it?”
“Dammit Theo, why’d you let Wenn and father go away?”
Theo looks genuinely puzzled. “Go where Amy? I’ve been out hunting all day. Haven’t seen them since last night.”
I push further. “They left for the city with Bets. Why didn’t you stop them? At the very least, you could’ve told me.”
Theo stands up, pours a cup of water, and hands it to me. I’m shaking now. “I don’t know nothing about them leaving, Amy. I saw Bets this afternoon after I returned with a nice buck. We’d never go on an excursion without telling you, especially Wenn. In fact, after you went to bed last night, we agreed that he’d stay to tend to you and the growing child.” He took a long drag of tobacco. “I’m sure they’re out hunting or drinking.”
“The house’s a mess Theo. They packed in a hurry and took all the food and most of their clothes. Three of the horses are missing. They left me.” I don’t cry. But I feel something like sobs emerging from deep inside my chest. Abandonment, anger, worry, betrayal, and sadness mix within me like a sick cocktail.
Theo wraps me in his thick arms. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’m sure they’ll be back tonight. Let’s walk over to the house and see what we can find.”
Theo is wrong. Wenn and father never return. I’m still torn about whether they left voluntarily or were forced. No one else in the village saw them leave. The only sign of a struggle was encased in three small drops of blood in the doorway that I noticed a few weeks after they vanished. I suspect all this has something to do with Fromer, but I’m unable to tell anyone. The green ones in the garden look at me with alien sympathy but are unable, or unwilling, to hint at what is happening.